Incomplete
by nine miles to go
Summary: Song fic Chris is reflecting on how he is the only person left still fighting to turn Wyatt back when an unexpected turn of events leaves him dying and wondering how he'll ever save the world now.


Disclaimer: I think this is my millionth disclaimer to count. Man, can these little thingamobobers get old. I think that by the time I finish with all the fanfics I ever do, I'll have written enough disclaimers so that if I combined them all together they would equal a pretty good length story. But heck, maybe that's because I never shut up! Alrighty, then, on with the story.

This is a song fic to the new Backstreet Boys song (don't get any ideas; the lyrics just match--I haven't actually heard the song lol!)

* * *

_Empty spaces fill me up with holes  
Distant faces with no place left to go  
Without you within me I can't find no rest  
Where I'm going is anybody's guess_

I whipped around and vanquished the last darklighter with a quick flick of my wrist. Exhausted from the attacks and certain that that would be the last of them, I sat down on the old couch in the abandoned club, P3.

I couldn't believe Mel had done this to me. Mel, my cousin, my best friend. First it was Bianca—I thought I'd never live through her death. Then Mel decides to up and leave one day and go join Wyatt. After everything we'd worked for and all the devotion we'd put into the cause to turn Wyatt back…she just changed out of nowhere. There was no way I could've seen it coming.

Of course, the best explanation I could think of at the time was that she was under mind control or being manipulated by Wyatt in some way. It made perfect sense. I mean, my little thirteen-year-old cousin was so determined and innocent and loyal. Nothing would've torn her away from me, not after all that we'd been through together. Both of our mothers dying, our fathers being nonexistent and Paige disappearing in the midst of it all. I was the one that took care of us. I was all she had. She wouldn't turn on me…would she?

But I was so wrong. I managed just barely to sneak into Wyatt's headquarters to find her, but what I found wasn't pretty. The cute little hazel-eyed cousin with bouncing blonde curls was completely different. Her eyes, once warm and inviting, seemed to shoot daggers into my soul. Her innocent expression had changed to one of hatred and anger, matching Wyatt's.

That's exactly what she looked like: Wyatt. 

I've tried to go on like I never knew you  
I'm awake but my world is half asleep  
I pray for this heart to be unbroken  
But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete

"Damn you, Wyatt," I muttered now. He took everything from me: the Manor, our families, my best friend, my cousin and closest ally.

I knew in my heart that I needed to let them go, both Bianca and Mel. It had been three years; I was seventeen now. Four years since sixteen-year-old Bianca had turned, actually. Yet the betrayal burned as strongly today as it did all those years ago. It made me wonder: Who was really right or wrong here? Was there really a dark and a light side? What if I was the one that was evil, seeing as all these good people have joined Wyatt?

All I had to remember, though, was Mel's cold face, and I knew that they were the wrong ones. Or I could take a step outside and hear the moaning people on the streets, all either dead or suffering or mourning and have to bear the horrible knowledge that I did not have the power to heal them as Wyatt did. It was torture everyday. It was ironic, actually, that Wyatt was given all the power and turned evil to abuse it while I was given practically nothing in comparison and managed to stay good.

Or maybe that wasn't a coincidence. Maybe all that power got to his head and I should be grateful that I was the powerless freak of a Halliwell nobody ever paid any attention to. I practically grew up at Phoebe's and Cole's house until Phoebe died with my mother and Cole disappeared. Mel was like my sister…Wyatt more like a school bully. Phoebe and Cole lived in a nice apartment up in San Francisco near the Bay Mirror, and I even rode the bus there every day after school. My mom was too busy with Wyatt half the time and too busy with the club the other half, so it was heaven to be in a place like Phoebe's, where they treated me as if I was not their nephew but like Mel.

But now I questioned all that I knew: Could that be why Mel detested me so much now? Because they had loved me like they had loved her? Suddenly all the warm memories of my time there turned sour. I could hold on to nothing good or dear nowadays anyway, seeing how it would all be taken away in an instant.

I heard the darklighter pop in behind me, and though I was deep in thought I didn't let it catch me off my guard. It was vanquished in an instant, just like the rest of them.

_You don't really think you can kill me with a bunch of little darklighters, _I thought into the telepathic connection Mel and I once shared that had been severed long ago.

To my surprise, this time there was an answer.

_I can try. _

Voices tell me I should carry on  
But I am swimming in an ocean all alone  
Baby, my baby  
It's written on your face  
You still wonder if we made a big mistake

I frowned. "Show yourself, Mel," I commanded. "You're being a coward. Orb your ass over here."

Cole was a whitelighter now, endowing her with the same whitelighter powers as me and Wyatt. Except that she could heal, too, and I couldn't.

Mel uncloaked herself, and I lifted my eyes to see her. There were no bouncing curls now. Her blonde hair was straight and sharp, almost menacing, and her gaze was no different. She would've been beautiful beyond this earth, as lovely as her mother before her…but the evil pulsing in her veins hid that beauty with the terrible monster she had become.

"You're as low as Wyatt now, aren't you?" I breathed.

"Low?" She laughed condescendingly at me. "On the contrary, Chris, I've never felt so high in my whole life. You don't know what you're missing."

"Sure I do. I'm missing many bloody murders and terrible plans, that's what."

Mel clicked her tongue and shook her head at me as if our roles had been reversed and I was the lost little kid. "We only kill those that get in the way, Chris. Someday you'll see how prosperous and great the world will be under our control."

"'Our' control!" I exclaimed. "We've known Wyatt all of our lives, Mel—"

"Melinda," she corrected.

"—_Mel_," I stressed, "and he's not one to share any of his power. You know that as well as I do! Besides, what have you ever wanted with power? You…were so innocent…" I could feel the tears welling up behind my eyes, but I refused to let them show. "I thought you cared."

"I did care, Chris, and that's why I offered to let you join us in the beginning. You were foolish and refused. There's no going back on that decision now." She slit her eyes at me angrily, making it clear that now I was the enemy. "You never trusted me, Chris, always doing things your own way. I have a voice with Wyatt."

"Everything I did was to protect you," I swore, and it was true. All of my plans had centered around her safety. Some of them almost ended up in sacrificing my own self so she could live. "You know that, Mel, deep in your heart."

"It's my life!" she yelled. "You could've let _me _decide!" She sneered at me. "That doesn't matter now, anyways, because Wyatt and Bianca give me the voice I deserve."

"But for how long?" I let the question hang. 

I've tried to go on like I never knew you  
I'm awake but my world is half asleep  
I pray for this heart to be unbroken  
But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete

She didn't respond; she merely stared at me with utter contempt in her expression. She'd been outmatched, but she still held on to her pride.

"I'm never turning back, Chris. It's too late. I'm living a better life now."

"That's wonderful, Mel," I said wearily. "What, did you think I was going to stop you? I gave up a long time ago," I lied. "I have no hope for you. You're evil now, or whatever you want to call yourself. You're sixteen. Old enough to make your own decisions."

She looked stung and taken aback by my words, just as I had expected. She'd been testing me by staying with Wyatt all along, though she probably would never admit it. She'd been testing just how far I'd go to bring her back, and I'd fallen for it by trying and trying for all these years. No more—I would no longer be her puppet. I was through.

Like a teenager opposing rules, she rebelled against me, seeing that I was the only rule-setter that she had to abide by.

"You're only seventeen," she shot back, though I could see her weakening.

"I know that, Mel. But hell knows I'm much older than that now."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You wouldn't, Mel," I said, trying to control my voice. Nonetheless, it raised angrily as I went on. "You never had to fend for yourself and your clueless little cousin as your older brother tried to taint her and kill you. You were never faced with life-changing decisions everyday or forced to live on the streets and watch people dying—the effects of your little buddy Wyatt's reign. You had it all easy, didn't you? And then you threw it all away."

She opened her mouth to protest, but I interrupted.

"You said you were living a better life now, didn't you? Well, I'm not, and these people sure aren't. This is hell on earth, what you've helped created. I don't want to be a part of it. I'm ashamed of you, Mel. Get out of my sight."

Her eyes widened considerably at that, making me think that I'd really gotten through to her for a moment.

Damn, was I wrong this time. 

I don't mean to drag it on, but I can't seem to let you go  
I don't wanna make you face this world alone  
I wanna let you go (alone)

Her eyes had widened in fear of the darklighter that had popped up behind me, that I couldn't see or sense at the time. She, too, was half-whitelighter; it was as much a threat to her as it was to me. But I didn't understand what was going on until the arrow had grazed through the side of my left shoulder, whizzed harmlessly past Mel's head and lodged itself in the P3 wall.

Despite the pain, I hardly flinched. "Happy?" I asked her.

She gulped, trying to regain her composure. "I wasn't the one who sent them, you know," she told me.

"But you didn't do anything to stop him, now did you?"

She took a step toward me, then hesitated. About now I didn't really care. It was apparent I was going to die, wasn't it? I'd never seen Leo since I was four and Cole was just gone. Wyatt and Mel wouldn't heal me, either. I could literally feel the poison coursing through my body as my heart pumped faster and faster.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way," she finally said. She gave me one last look, full of sadness and regret, before finally orbing away.

"So am I," I agreed, gasping for air. My lungs felt as though they were being squeezed. I wished that the damn arrow had just hit me head on and killed me faster. Now I had about twelve hours to walk around in misery before I died.

Twelve hours was the estimate. I had twelve hours to finish everything I still had. Twelve hours to leave this earth…twelve hours till I was with Piper and Phoebe again.

What could I possibly accomplish in twelve hours? Was there any chance I'd live?

"Leo? Cole?" I asked, staring up at the ceiling of P3. "Anyone up there?"

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, right. And hey, look, here's Wyatt, turned back to the light! Let's try to be realistic.

I felt a rush of anger at the whitelighters and elders. Leo, Cole, Paige—they all abandoned us. It was their fault. When trouble hit, the cowards ran for Up There and left their kids to battle it out.

"I hope you freaks are happy," I muttered in disgust, voice straining. I stumbled back over to the couch. "I hope you're all laughing up there, drinking beer and having a jolly time. Take a look down here for once, you bastards! Look at the mess we've made. Isn't anyone going to help?"

_  
I've tried to go on like I never knew you  
I'm awake but my world is half asleep  
I pray for this heart to be unbroken  
But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete  
_

I knew there wouldn't be an answer, but damn did it feel good to yell at them.

"And you, Leo," I continued angrily. "Don't think that I couldn't sense you orbing into Wyatt's room at night, talking to him and watching him sleep and all that crap. I stayed up all night just to hear you in there, but you never even cared about what was going on in my life, or what I was doing. Wyatt was just too great, wasn't he? Well, look at what became of him now. Or did you already know? Were you the one that taught him to be the way he is, Leo?"

The rage had been bottled up too long. "And you, Wyatt. You bastard. What kind of a guy tries to kill his own younger brother? You were always mad at me, and I never knew why. What did I have that you didn't? You were powerful, and mom and dad doted on you all day and night, and you were popular. The only thing I ever had was one best friend—Bianca. And you took her, too." I gulped, feeling hot tears and not even bothering to suppress them. I knew I was dying. If I was lucky, I'd black out for the last six hours or something and not even feel it.

"And Paige…why the hell did you leave us when we needed you most? Why, Paige? Where _are_ you? You lived! I saw you orb away that night. You made it out—the only one left unscathed while the rest of us battled demons and life-threatening wounds. What the hell is so much more important than trying to help the rest of the world?" I shuddered, sobbing for all of them and the mistake they'd made. "Uncle Cole. You, too. Look what happened to your daughter. She's screwed and evil, just like Wyatt. She wouldn't listen to me, but maybe, just maybe she'd have listened to you."

Blood started to rise into my throat, warm and thick and metallic.

"And lastly," I rasped, "Bianca. I thought you were my best friend. You even told me you were. And then…" I coughed violently, shaking all over. "You ditched me, too. One by one, all of you. Am I the only one left now? For these next few hours, will I be the only one that isn't cowardly?"

I closed my eyes, trying to relax, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Chris."

The voice may have changed, but I knew it well. I was sure I was hallucinating. I'd been hit by a darklighter arrow before, of course—what Halliwell hasn't?—but never had gone this long without being healed before.

I opened my eyes to see Bianca's blurred outline. I blinked, and she became clearer: now she was older, taller, and more a woman then the last time I saw her four years ago. Her eyes, like mine, were wet and red.

"What…what are you doing here?"

She took my hand. "I'm not going to let you die, Chris. I still care. We're going to find a way to save you."

"How?" I asked quietly.

"I—I know where your Uncle Cole is…" She took a deep breath. "Wyatt's got him. I can bring you to him, and he can heal you."

"But you'll still be with Wyatt," I deadpanned.

She hesitated. "I don't know. That's not important right now."

"It is to me," I pressed before I succumbed to the darkness. The last thing I felt was her shimmering me away before blacking out.

_  
Incomplete_

When I woke up, I was in the P3, on the old mattress. Everything seemed as if it had been a dream…till I saw Bianca, sprawled on the couch and asleep. And standing with his back turned to us, my Uncle Cole.

We were going to find a way to save this world—I knew it.

* * *

Fini. No sequels. Ummmmmmmm yah.


End file.
